


Just because you can, doesn't mean you should

by Banashee



Series: Bad Things Happen Bingo [3]
Category: Marvel, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, The Avengers - Ambiguous Fandom
Genre: Bad Things Happen Bingo, Blood and Injury, Clint Barton & Natasha Romanov Friendship, Domestic Avengers, Fluff and Angst, Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Natasha Romanov & Tony Stark Friendship, Natasha Romanov Feels, Natasha Romanov Is Not A Robot, Nightmares, Platonic Cuddling, Platonic Relationships, Red Room (Marvel), Team as Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-19
Updated: 2020-04-19
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:07:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23734333
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Banashee/pseuds/Banashee
Summary: Part 3 of my "Bad things happen bingo"It's been many years since Natasha had the last set-back into her Red Room programming. But one evening, she has a nightmare, and in the aftermath of it, she comes back to herself and is devastated to realize that she hurt her best friend.
Relationships: Clint Barton & Natasha Romanov, Natasha Romanov & Avengers Team
Series: Bad Things Happen Bingo [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1701046
Comments: 6
Kudos: 75
Collections: Bad Things Happen Bingo





	Just because you can, doesn't mean you should

**Author's Note:**

> Hi,  
> so, because I love a good writing challenge, I'm now taking a part in the Bad Things Happen Bingo.  
> https://badthingshappenbingo.tumblr.com/  
> Please mind the tags!
> 
> I'm cross-posting this to my tumblr, https://banashee.tumblr.com
> 
> This is my third square: "Accidentally hurt by a friend".

****

**Just because you can doesn't mean you should**

It starts out like any other, uneventful evening in the tower where all of them are present. Dinner, movie night, falling asleep on the couch - nothing unusual at all. 

That is, until Natasha starts fidgeting and muttering in her sleep. Clint blinks awake, carefully running a hand over her shoulder in a soothing motion. 

But when she doesn't stop, doesn't calm and instead, a cold string of Russian flows from her lips, he tenses up and curses out loud in a hushed voice.

"Everything okay?" Steve asks from where he’d been dozing off on Bucky’s shoulder, sounding concerned.

It causes everyone else to look up as well, just in time for Natasha to tense up, muttering once more in Russian - Bucky tenses as well, since he’s got a pretty good idea of what might be happening. He keeps his eyes locked on her and Clint in understanding, while the expressions of their teammates range from confusion to worry and slowly dawning understanding.

“I need you all to get out of the room. This might get ugly and too many people here won’t help.” 

Clint sits up, very carefully, and gets his feet on the ground in preparation for what he knows will follow soon - any further questions are cut off, because Natasha shoots up from the couch, angry snarl on her lips and then, without a warning, she kicks Clint into the coffee table with enough force for it to break under him. 

The whole room erupts in chaos - people screaming, wanting to help and unsure what to do. Meanwhile, Clint forces himself up from the floor, blocking the next vicious blows from Natasha as she attacks him in a cold rage. It’s like she doesn’t even recognize him. 

As devastating this whole thing is, it’s over in a matter of just a few minutes - but the room lies in shambles around them, furniture in pieces, shards of glass and spilled drinks on the floor. Blood splattered across a wall and the floor from when she broke Clint’s nose earlier.

Now, Natasha sits on the ground and in the middle of the wreckage, clearly shaken and very, very silent. 

Her green eyes are filled with pain and sadness, shining suspiciously wet. Clint is sitting in front of her, dried blood on his face and one eye swelling shut - he’s moving very carefully, probably because of some cracked ribs. He’d fought off any attempt in medical care, simply shoving balled up pieces of tissue paper up his nose to stop bleeding all over the place. 

The injuries don’t seem to bother him very much right now, because he keeps talking in the same calm and low tone of voice he’d used the entire time in an attempt to bring Natasha back to herself. He has one hand stretched out in between them, a calm offering of comfort, but Natasha doesn’t take it - not yet, not trusting herself, even now that the red fog in her head has cleared up and she is back to her own self. Back, but shaken.

The others had, despite that Clint asked them to, not left. 

Usually, they respect each others requests to be left alone, but this is different. No one wanted to leave, too worried about Natasha’s state of mind and too worried about Clint getting seriously hurt to the point where he wouldn’t be able to fight anymore - and he’d refused to fight back, not wanting to hurt his best friend when she wasn’t in control of herself and even more so, refusing to use the trigger words that would stop her.

As it is, they managed to restrain her with Steve and Thor holding onto her, firm but as non-threateningly as possible while Clint had gotten a chance to catch his breath. He managed talk her down and back to her own self after the nightmare that triggered something in her. Even after she’d calmed down and gotten back to herself, and her friends stopped holding onto her, she’s still holding her arms tightly crossed around herself. 

The team is keeping their distance now, but still worried and hovering. They want to give her privacy, while still staying close, just in case any of them is needed in some way. 

As a compromise, they pile in the kitchen, where Bucky had gone first to make tea. 

Natasha and him have history that dates back many decades - with her being back in a old mindset, he’d been unsure if his presence would be helpful or make it even worse. So he keeps his distance and keeps busy with preparing a mug of herbal tea with honey, just the way he knows Nat likes. 

Natasha keeps her breathing carefully even. Slowly, she uncurls herself, scooting a little bit closer to Clint and finally taking his hand. The grip is gentle and reassuring - it feels warm, slightly rough and calloused. This is a feeling she’s associated with home for a long time. 

She has told Clint about the trigger words years ago - told them to Phil, too. Just in case something or someone compromised her. 

Neither of them have ever used this knowledge, not wanting to manipulate her. They always managed to bring her back without it. 

Part of Natasha is disappointed that they willingly let her hurt them instead of putting a stop to it with the most efficient way they know, but another, slightly selfish part of her is thankful that they love her enough to try their damn best to bring her back without using any of this delicate knowledge - that they love her enough as to not mess with her mind, even when it would be for the best of everyone else. 

It assures her in her decision to trust them with it in the first place. 

It’s been years since she’s had the last setback into her red room programming - before they even formed the Avengers years, and right now, she’s slowly catching up to the damage she’s done. 

Wrecking their home, probably scaring the team and most of all, hurting her best friend. Natasha feels sick, and wonders if that was it with her new life. 

_“What if they hate you for this”_ a mean voice in her brain whispers, smug and gloating, rubbing it’s disgusting little hands. 

She doesn’t realize she must have asked this out loud - or maybe not, and Clint just knows her too well to not catch on.

“Nothing changed. You’re safe and all of us still love you. Promise.”

Natasha doesn’t answer, but she crosses the distance between them and wraps herself around Clint, holding on for dear life. It must be causing him pain, what with his newly damaged ribs because he can’t suppress a slight flinch at the sudden pressure there, but still, he simply hugs back, holding her close and pressing a kiss into her messy red curls, not letting go of her. 

“I’m sorry I hurt you.” she mutters into his shoulder.

“It’s okay, I’ve had worse. Not your fault, Tasha.”

She wants to disagree, but it won’t get them anywhere. They’ve had this kind of talk many times over the years, so she simply holds on for longer. 

When she finally lets go of Clint, pale and red eyed, there is a travel mug placed on the floor near her, but no one else is in sight. Natasha didn’t even realize it got placed there. It’s something that would usually never happen to her, because she always notices things around her, but this particular set back left her shaken.

She still recognizes the gesture for what it is. The ghost of a smile crosses her lips, and she takes a careful sip. 

It’s her favourite herbal tea and it tastes perfect - sweet with honey and instantly calming.

Breathing is a lot easier now.

  
  


The rest of the night, she spends curled up around Clint in his bed. Part of her wants to fight it, too afraid she might slip back again and kill him in his sleep, but the part that wants to accept the offered comfort is stronger this time - they know the drill by now. It always works out, and Natasha wants the company. 

Sleep doesn’t come, but she manages to doze a little bit at least and the next day, she feels a little better and shuffles off to the shower, stealing ancient sweatpants with holes in the knees and a cheesy touristy T-shirt out of Clint’s closet. 

He simply puts a clean, folded towel on top of the pile of clothes, then he makes his way to the kitchen. 

When Natasha joins him there later, she is greeted by the rest of the team. While this kitchen is a lot smaller than the common area downstairs, they all fit around the table - she knows they try and keep her away from that area until the damage is repaired, not wanting to upset her - she’s torn between being annoyed, because she can handle it for god’s sake, and being happy that she won’t have to deal with it.

_“Just because you can doesn’t mean you should.”_ a calm voice in the back of her head gently reminds her, and it is no coincidence that it sounds very much like Phil - she still misses him. 

All of them do.

But the team is here and everything is the same as always - Clint stands at the stove, cooking while inhaling black coffee straight from the pot. His injuries look worse now that bruises have formed, and some time in the night he actually managed to set his broken nose in place - his face looks horrible right now, a reminder of what she’s done. But she also knows he doesn’t blame her, and most importantly, despite looking banged up, he seems to be otherwise okay. 

A cooking Clint is one who is feeling good, she knows. He’s also occasionally humming along to the song that’s playing faintly in the background, in between sips of coffee and flipping eggs and pancakes.

Steve, Bucky and Thor set the table, chatting away and greeting her just as happy as always. Bruce chops fruit into a large bowl, looking up with a smile and Tony is propped up against the counter, drinking coffee out of a giant mug and keeping an eye on the waffle iron - the only cooking task they trust him to do without supervision. 

He’s using nicknames just as always, “Red Sonja”, “Itsy Bitsy” and all the other names that keep earning him her elbow into the ribs on a daily basis - it’s a comfort. 

A comfort, and prove for what Clint promised her earlier - nothing changed and they still love her. 

*+~

**Square: Accidentally hurt by a friend**

  
  
  
  



End file.
